


Too Much Blushing

by VYCanisMajoris



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Natasha Romanov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, M/M, Multi, Omega Tony Stark, Protective Peter Parker, So much blushing, Wooing, blushing Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 13:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14426466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VYCanisMajoris/pseuds/VYCanisMajoris
Summary: For tumblr prompt: I just love the idea of a blushy and flustered tony and his tough exterior but super soft on the inside alphas.





	Too Much Blushing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong to Marvel Entertainment. Any writing is completely fan-made and I make no profit from this writing.

Tony stares down at the bouquet, eyes incredibly wide and a hot blush crawling up his neck and into his face with the intensity that Pepper holds when playing monopoly against Rhodey – the intensity of a person working desperately not to die, since Rhodey is, by all intents and purposes, the master of monopoly. 

The bouquet is beautiful, full of white lilies, all of which shouldn’t be in bloom right now, making it an even better treat to look at, and the stems are tied together with a silver ribbon curled to perfection. He looks up from the petals and into Natasha’s face and takes a deep whiff of the scent of a very pleased alpha.

He had been working on Clint’s arrows, since Clint decided that he was going to see just how many arrows Peter could catch with his “spidey-senses” and managed to coat every single arrow in Peter’s webs before they were discovered, when Natasha arrived, making just enough noise to alert him politely, with the bouquet held in her manicured hands. 

She stares back at him, a small smile on her face, and says, “I heard they were your favourites.”

“I – they are, thank you,” he replies, choosing to sniff the flowers in an attempt to hide his horrendous blushing, “How’d you hear that?”

“I have ways.” 

“Of course you do. Do they involve interrogating Rhodey on the ‘mushy’ stuff that he swore he wouldn’t get involved in?”

She leans against his workshop table, one hip cocked, showing off the holster that Jan designed, and says, “Maybe, maybe we’re just very observant and saw how you looked at the flowers in the park before it got destroyed by Hammer’s crappy robots.”

“They _are_ crappy!” Tony agrees, instead of focusing on the warmth growing in his chest at her explanation and the fire that is his once nice complexion. “They looked like they were designed by a drunk toddler, and I think one of them was made out of spare vacuum cleaner parts, too.”

“Nothing like your kids,” Natasha replies, glancing over to DUM-E and giving him a smile. DUM-E moves his arm up and down, agreeing, and the interaction makes Tony preen at having his alpha’s approval. His heart melts, too, when Natasha waves to DUM-E and the bot waves back. 

“Plus,” Natasha shrugs, her smile growing as her eyes dart around his face and take in the blush, “You always smell happier with flowers around.”

“I do? I thought I just smelled like cinnamon and soot, from what Clint said.”

“Clint once fell headfirst into a dumpster after tripping over his own shoelaces, so I’d take his words with a grain of salt.” She pushes off the table and leans in close, brushing a soft, barely-there kiss on his cheek, and murmurs in his ear, making him wish that he set the air-conditioning on high before she walked in, “You smell like sunshine when you’re happy.” 

Natasha reaches out, running her hand down his hair and neck, pressing her wrist to his neck, then smiles even wider, and adds, “Now I do too.” 

She does, actually. Both she and Bucky have started to hold his scent like how he holds theirs, but with more intensity than other bonded couples and groups. Before he has the chance to dissect her comment, she smiles at him, looking far too devious, and starts toward the door. 

“Wait!” Tony calls after her, and she pauses, glancing back. He jumps up and walks over, carrying the flowers carefully, then leans down – because he _is_ taller than someone, _thank you very much_ – and kisses Natasha’s cheek and says, “Thanks, Tasha. I love them.” 

Her eyes are bright when he pulls back, and she grins again, overflowing with smugness, then winks at him and walks away, a certain swagger in her steps and her scent. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His blushing continues, to his complexion’s displeasure, the next day, when he walks into the kitchen in the morning. Sam sits at the table, bent over a notebook and oddly silent, seeing as how Bucky stands at the sink, wearing a frilly apron with lace around the edges and lilac lettering that daintily spells out “No Bitchn’ in This Kitchen”. Normally, Sam would be annoying the hell out of Bucky for wearing it, and just for being near him, and Bucky would be giving back as good as he got, so Tony is a little miffed over the silence. 

Bucky glances over when Tony enters, and his usually blank face lights up, a change that only occurs when Natasha and Tony are around, or when something embarrassing happens to Sam. He steps away from the sink and reaches out, brushing a hand against Tony’s neck and leaving traces of a familiar scent. 

Tony smiles, ducking his head, and Bucky leans down. He turns his head up, but Bucky leaves a kiss on his forehead instead. Tony pouts, pretending he doesn’t have the beginnings of an obvious blush, and Bucky simply laughs, running a hand through Tony’s hair. 

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“I swear, you guys only do this stuff to make me blush.’

“S’cause you blush so prettily, ya know. You’ve got a cute smile, too.”

Warmth uncurls in his chest, but he raises his nose to the air and says, “Stop that – stop that _right_ now. I can’t have people seeing me as a mushy romantic – I am an avenger, a CEO, and an amazing person, and I will be respected as such, and so will you.”

“Debatable,” Sam mutters, ripping out a sheet of paper and crumpling it up. He tosses it into the trash can and restarts, scribbling furiously on the paper, continually glancing up to stare at the mug in front of him. 

At the silence following his comment, Sam looks up and glances between them, taking in Bucky’s warning look and the slight hurt on Tony’s face, then backtracks, adding, quickly, “I respect _you_ , Tony, always have and always will, but not the cyborg hobo who still hasn’t learned what a haircut is.”

“Strong words for someone struggling to sketch out a mug,” Bucky drawls, gently taking Tony’s hand in his metal one and leading him to the table. He pulls a chair out and stands behind it, waiting for Tony, who huffs a breath and takes the seat, hoping that Sam shows enough kindness to not mention how red his face is. 

“Strong reply for someone struggling to make pancakes without burning them,” Sam responds, frowning down at his paper. 

“They ain’t burnt – they’re perfect!” Bucky grabs a plate off the counter and plops it down in front of Tony, revealing correctly cooked, if somewhat browner than usual, pancakes. 

“Right?” He asks Tony, fidgeting slightly as his hands worry the edges of the apron.

Tony nods immediately and is rewarded with a bright smile and, finally, a kiss on the lips. Sam gags, to which Bucky flips him off. He gathers up his papers and pencil, muttering, “I’ll get out before you two flood the place with even more of your gross scents.”

“Not gross!” Bucky calls after him, “You’re just jealous!”

Sam flips him off as he leaves the room, the door swinging shut after him. Bucky pulls out the chair next to Tony and sits down, wrapping an arm around Tony’s waist and holding him close. He waits, patiently, as Tony cuts off a piece and tastes it. 

It tastes great, surprisingly, since Bucky hasn’t had much practice, and the omega part in the back of his mind preens at having a mate provide for him, even though they live in a time in which killing, hunting, and preparing food isn’t commonplace anymore. 

“Well?” Bucky asks, shyer than before. 

“It’s great!” Tony says, and Bucky’s face breaks out into a warm, blindingly bright smile. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Need any help, Peter?” Tony asks, after Peter lets out another disheartened, somewhat theatrical sigh.

“Hmm?” Peter glances up, a crayon tucked behind his ear and some of the waxy colour pressed into his cheek, a difficult act to achieve. He shrugs, looking back to his schematics, and says, cautiously, “I’m good, just, uh, drawing some stuff, I guess.” 

“With crayons?”

“Helps me differentiate between the parts, and, uh, stuff – listen, Mr. Stark – Tony, Mr. Tony-”

“-Just Tony-”

“Tony,” Peter corrects himself, and he glances around the room quickly, scanning the entrances, vents, and windows with the intensity usually held on the field. He leans in close, and asks, softly, “Are you, you know, uh, happy, with, uh, you know…”

“I really don’t. Some extra nouns and verbs would be helpful, bud.”

“You know…” Peter gestures toward Tony, then outside the room, “With Natasha and Bucky and, you know,” Peter’s face heats up in embarrassment, making Tony cheer internally that someone else has just a hard of a time at hiding emotions like that, “The relationship and, their – their faces.”

“Their… faces. Listen, Petey-Pie, I’ll be honest here, I’m worried for you. Do you need to get your eyes checked? Because Tasha and Bucky are both incredibly attractive, and it’s not just their faces-”

“No!” Peter interrupts, waving his hands to try and cut Tony off, “No, not that, not that at all!” 

Tony grins, but quiets down as the smallest bit of the smell of wariness, a sharp-tinged scent, reaches his nose. He shuffles closer to Peter and says, “What do you mean, then?”

“Just, you know, you’re – you’re you, and you’re nice and warm and, you know, kind. And, they’re both just… really intimidating and, just, _tough_ ,” Peter finishes, lamely. “Are they nice to you?”

Tony pauses for a moment, completely blindsided. He expected something about fraternizing hindering the team, possible breakups ruining the dynamic, _maybe_ something about the relationship set-up with two alphas and one omega, but he didn’t really expect that since Peter acts a lot kinder and softer than other teenage alphas, but Tony didn’t expect _this_. He especially didn’t expect the way Peter sets his jaw, as if he’s two seconds from running off to fight Natasha and Bucky at the first instance of them not treating Tony right. In all honesty, it warms his heart and makes the back of his head cheer about the close-knit nature of the pack. 

Instead of voicing any of those thoughts, Tony nods, smiles helplessly, and says, “They’re amazing to me. I couldn’t be happier.” 

Peter stares into his face for a moment, then nods. He turns back to his schematics and takes Tony’s help, making the problem simplify faster than it would without his help, until elevator door opens up and a pair of people enter the floor. Tony sits up and finds Bucky and Natasha walking into the room, hand-in-hand, and smiles when they catch sight of him and smile back. 

Natasha slows down as she surveys the room, glancing between Tony and Peter, and asks, casually yet cautious, “So what’s up, guys?”

“Nothing much, right Peter?” Tony asks, bumping his shoulder into Peter’s.

“Nothing,” Peter agrees.

“See? The spider genius says so, so it must be true.”

“He’s just staying on his toes cause of the lecture you gave him and Clint about the arrows,” Bucky comments.

Peter shoots Bucky a look of absolute betrayal, still stinging from Tony’s earlier disapproval. He gathers up his crayons and paper, accepts a quick side-hug from Tony, and leaves the room, muttering something about fridge magnets – something Tony will investigate later with more focus – much, much later, based on how Natasha plops down next to him and runs a hand through his hair while Bucky sits on his other side and wraps an arm around him. 

“You made Peter sad,” Tony says, refusing to be distracted despite Natasha’s best efforts. 

“I’ll apologize later,” Bucky promises, pressing himself even closer to them, somehow wrapping his arms around both Tony and Natasha. 

Tony rolls his eyes at the obvious distraction, but leans into the embrace and Natasha’s hand, and wonders how Peter even got the idea that they weren’t kind to him.


End file.
